How Long Do You Propose?
by prowess
Summary: Harry proposes and he's busted. Will he ever make up?


Disclaimer: Harry Potter and friends do not belong to me.

A/N: Change of plans. I decided to make the proposal longer. There's going to be conflict. I hope you like the revised edition. I deleted some stuff and I think it's great now the way it is. Those who reviewed before, please review again and see if expectations were met. Thank you lots. 

I've got to clear things up, number one, it's Ponafide. That's probably the word that I accidentally pressed 'changed' on when I did my spelling and grammar check. Sorry for that. Also, the too into detail thing, that's just a phase of my wackiness, got caught up. My apologies for that too. Lastly, to person, I wrote auburn because it's a synonym of golden brown as I saw here. It doesn't necessarily mean red, although there is a connection. Furthermore, it's too boring to continually use brown. If you have other synonyms for that just tell me and I'd change it as soon as I can. It was funny though, that I have used auburn quite sometime and nobody complained about it. Anyway, thank you for your point of views, constructive criticisms, however I won't be able to add up to it until probably the end of June, because our computer is still a wreck and all I can do is upload fics. Please read and review! 

This is my version of Harry and Hermione's nuptial celebration. And every wedding starts with a proposal. As you know, and may other H/Hr fans side with me, Harry and Hermione are great together. This just means that it's H/Hr forever! And no one should oppose that. Other pairings are good too, but enough about them! It's H/Hr here! On with it! Hurry on…

How Long do You Propose?

By Prowess

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Hermione Granger turned to the direction of the sound. She was rubbing her face with a towelette, having washed her face with a fragrant, fruit based, skin friendly soap, and water. Walking to the door, still rubbing her face with the towel, she wondered who would be there.

"Who is it?" she had asked. It took a while to hear the reply, she heard some muffled and sounds and footsteps pacing down the hallway of her apartment. 

"Oh, Hermione, it's me. Harry." She opened her door to reveal the man he went out with a few hours ago. Harry was still dressed in his open blue jacket, revealing a dark green shirt and beige pants. They just went out for a walk, and a long walk it has been, considering walking around dozens of shops and restaurants and circling the park in London. Hermione was already in her robes, just had a soothing bath after their day out. Her hair was twirled up in her towel, and she already had her fluffy bedtime slippers and pajamas worn. 

She warmly invited him in, and Harry felt this warm aura the moment he stepped inside. He didn't know if it was because of the neatness and cleanliness of the place, the natural warm feeling, or because Hermione was there. Hermione gestured to her olive green painted living room, to her checkered sofa. 

"Sit. Now don't be shy. It's not like this is the first time you came here." She exclaimed, as hospitable as ever. Harry nodded and sat on the couch. Hermione sat on the matching chair. She was as dainty as ever, sitting cross-legged, back straight, shoulders relaxed.

"So, what brought you back here?" She had asked. Harry looked like he wasn't listening. But then, his attention was caught and he turned to see Hermione's worried face. 

"Is something wrong? I think you should go rest," she said, her voice very concerned.

"Oh, no. I'm fine. I just wanted to give you this." He held out a small envelope. It was light fuchsia in color, and there were shiny pink lettering on the front. 

_Hermione Granger_, she had read in its lovely calligraphy, and little swirls at the bottom for decoration. Hermione looked at Harry's eyes, looking very impressed, surprised and excited. She opened the envelope, and looked at the thin wax paper. There was a punched hole at the top, and there was a ribbon that bound the wax paper and a small sheet of pink hard paper. 

On the wax paper, with the same calligraphy from the front, was written:

You are cordially invited for dinner 

_the day after tomorrow. _

Hermione looked up again at Harry, not that pleased. It seemed… incomplete. But Harry nudged at the second paper, the pink one, and she flipped the first one slightly. On the pink paper, there was no more calligraphy and design and style. Written in Harry's handwriting, what Hermione read seemed to take the worry away. 

_Please come. Trust me. I'll pick you up at seven._

_Harry_

Hermione stared at those last words, thinking of what kind of invitation it is. Doesn't seem very formal, it was incomplete. Still, there was this little something that made Hermione not scoff about it. Was it the decoration? The paper?  The last words in his handwriting?  …him?

Hermione looked at Harry once more. Some wisps of her now drying hair emerged from the towel, and she placed the towelette in her other hand on her coffee table to wipe them away. It was obvious that Hermione was thinking it through, alternating looks between at Harry and the invitation. Finally, she raised her head.

"Seven it is." She smiled. Harry can't help smiling back. 

There was a little chitchat and while Hermione was preparing juice and brownies, that she had started to bake weekly after their graduation in Hogwarts, Harry was looking at the cozy apartment.  It was in the third floor, there was no hassle in carrying broken and restored stuff up there and it's not really that tiring to go up three floors. Still, it was big compared to the others, it was the last door on the floor. Harry thought it was large because of an architectural problem, the others having the same size and then when it came to Hermione's they realized there was extra space, a higher cost too. He continued to look around, a dining table for four was across him. He remembered their hearty Christmas dinner just a few months ago, with Ron and her girlfriend, Naomi. Naomi comes from a Muggle family, but her brother is now a wizard. She stayed at home to help their grandparents who brought them up which is why she couldn't study. 

He remembered their exchange of looks, that sweet, lovable, attraction between the two, and he just sighed, wishing it would happen to him soon. 

_Clunk._

Hermione just finished pouring the drink in a glass, and Harry heard her footsteps getting closer. From the open divider, Hermione's auburn hair appeared. 

She was carrying a black Japanese inspired tray, and there were two small plates with three bite-size cherry- walnut brownies, a dollop of whipped cream in the middle and a cherry on top of each. Harry was handed one plate and a tall glass of lemonade on the coaster. Hermione took hers and set the tray aside, for cleaning up. 

They talked for quite a while, the juice was three-fourths full, half, one-fourth, and finally gone. Crumbs and smudges of whipped cream and the cherry stem are all that was left on the plate, and Harry helpingly carried the tray for Hermione. After a word of thanks, Harry bade goodbye.

As soon as the door closed, Hermione looked back at what happened. The whole time they talked, Hermione can't stop thinking of the invitation, what it means, and what it's for. 

"Well," she sighed, taking off the towel to reveal her half dried hair, "at least I'll know the day after tomorrow."

"It's a dinner party, you dolt!" Ginny Weasley squealed after hearing about the invitation. Hermione called her up the next morning, hoping she knew about it. Hermione just read the invitation, trying to contemplate again when Ginny, who was listening burst out, "It's a romantic dinner party! Oh, how sweet!"  

"Ginny, I know that it's a dinner party. But it doesn't necessarily mean it's for two, how could it be a dinner party if it's just the two of us? I mean I don't even know why I accepted the offer, well, of course I should, Harry would be upset if I didn't." 

"Hermione, it's like this. A while ago, I said romantic dinner party. Erase party, it's a romantic dinner. And you accepted the offer because of the last words, 'trust me, please come'. I mean, after how many years of knowing him, like how many? Fifteen years! See it's two digits already! And you thought it would be over after we graduated from Hogwarts." 

"Well, yes, I think that is the reason. Still, I'm confused. And I'm not agreeing that it's just the two of us. I mean, he's probably going to deliver an invitation for you today."

"Hermione, Hermione, Hermione. Harry is your boyfriend. I know you really aren't in favor of the term, but come on, he is a close friend to put it in your words."

"Very, very close friend." Hermione added. "Well, fine then. I'm already twenty-five years old, had a couple of other boyfriends, but with Harry it's different. It's just not a boyfriend, it's more. He's more of a soul mate. You know?"

"More like a husband, Herm." Ginny stated. Hermione's brows furrowed and she exclaimed Ginny's name as if she committed a mortal sin.

"Oh, come on. Don't tell me you don't fantasize about that. That day when he would ask you 'Would you be my bride? The mother of my children'…" Ginny remarked in a mushy tone. Hermione can't reply. It was true, she did think of those moments, but don't all girls go to that stage?

"Well, yeah, I guess," Hermione answered, unsure of what she was saying. "I don't know."

"Well, you admitted a couple of things. You like him. For you, he's your soul mate. And based on the number of hours you are together, it is so obvious that he likes you too. You are willing to be his bride-"

"At the right time, of course. " Hermione butted.

"Fine. But you have to admit; you are capable of marriage now. If he really loves you, he could just ask you anytime now." Ginny stated, her voice very concerned. Hermione felt that she was right. She was already grown-up. But it still doesn't mean that it's going to be Harry and Hermione, together forever. Not yet. 

"So do you admit that it's dinner for two?" Ginny asked quickly.

"I still think that there would be other people there. Probably a surprise or something. I mean, from what I see in the invitation of course." 

"Why are you so nervous? It's not like this is the first time he asked you out on a date…for dinner…outside…with no one else…" reminded Ginny.

"But there was no invitation and he never said please come, trust me." Hermione pointed out.

"I guess you've just got to trust the fellow. I know you love him and care for him Herm. I know that he feels the same way for you." Ginny's words were sincere, and Hermione nodded, even if her friend can't see it. 

"Thanks Ginny." She whispered.

"No proble- Oh My Gosh!" Ginny exclaimed. "Do you have something to wear? Let's go shopping!" 

"I have something to wear, I'm fine." Hermione remarked, laughing slightly.

"Great. See that? See how you love him? You are already prepared for a date tomorrow. I'll go later to see it. Is six-thirty all right? I've got a date with Simon at eight." 

"Six thirty is fine. Simon asked you out? Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's a first. My first dinner date with him. Well, to tell you the truth, I completely forgot about it ever since you called about Harry's invitation." Simon was Ginny's boyfriend. They met about a month ago, and this was the first time he asked her out for a night get-together. He was a romantic actually, a bit shy, but his timing is always perfect.  They seemed right for each other, and it's nice that Ginny has some sparks in her love life after a backstabbing trickster dumped her. Hermione was very happy for her, and she grinned. Now it's her time to tease Ginny about Simon.

"Oh come on, Ginny, you're nervous? No way! It's not like this is your first date together….alone….completely alone with him, "

Ding Dong… 

Hermione opened her door and Ginny came rushing in. 

"Let me see, let me see." She whispered impatiently yet excitedly. Hermione went in her room and took out the dress she hung in a hanger. Ginny's eyes flushed with excitement. 

"It's wonderful! I've never seen that before. Well, go ahead, try it on." Hermione hung the hanger on a hook in the wall, which was for coats and hats. She wasn't taking the dress off. Ginny frowned. 

"Well, it's just that if I take it off, I'll have to iron it again, I won't want any wrinkles. You understand, right?"

Ginny was looking away, but then turned her head towards her friend and smiled. Hermione saw the smile and knew that she was thinking of how she's preparing for tomorrow night. 

"Okay," Ginny said in a soft tone. "It's for 'Harry's eyes only' now." She teased. "Oh, I've got to go. Simon's waiting for me."

"Good luck honey," Hermione cried out as Ginny went out the door. Nearly going down, Ginny looked back at Hermione and cried out, "Oh, and Harry didn't give me an invitation! Remember the romantic dinner for two…" 

Rrring….Rrring…Rrring… 

A dozing Hermione shot out of her bed and picked up the phone. Ginny called, and no doubt, it was about the night before.

"Well how was it?" Hermione questioned, eager to listen to her friend's story. 

"Sweet. I loved it. He gave me white roses. He said they were pure. He said it means there's an intimate relationship between us. He was so kind, a gentleman. He took of my coat, we ate a fabulous meal. There was lobster and creamy vegetable soup, and grilled beef with mussel sauce. And in the end, there was a lovely caramel pear tart. It was all delicious and I enjoyed every bite. It was the best date ever. We strolled around the streets and then he went with me to my apartment and kissed me goodnight." Ginny let out a deep sigh. 

"Well, that Simon is truly a charmer, a bit slow, but good." Hermione commented.

"And you know where he's taking me next? In an Italian restaurant this Sunday. Said it was a surprise. Did you happen to know any Italian restaurants here? I'm just curious where it would be. 

"At least you know it's an Italian restaurant. I don't know where we are going to go." 

Morning passed by like a breeze and before Hermione knew it, she had cleaned almost everything. It was already about three or four o' clock and Hermione hadn't eaten lunch yet. She took out a sandwich she prepared the day before for a snack and ate it with lemonade. For the rest of the afternoon, she decided to dedicate on fixing herself for the party, which she still firmly believes to be for many people. However she never knew she could be this excited, it's very different from the get-togethers they've done before.

_'Well, maybe Ginny wasn't invited because it's an intimate moment. Or a thing she can't relate to. I_ _bet Sirius and Remus and Dumbledore would be there.'_ She thought as she dipped into the bathtub she had placed some pear bath bubbles and jasmine petals on. Her hair was up in a towel again; she had just come from her small shower and used a fragrant flower- smelling shampoo. She looked around her bathroom. There weren't any cabinets below eye level since she used the space to have a shower, despite the bathtub. Her bathtub she used for relaxing, and her shower for rush days. With her body relaxed, she imagined what the night would be like. There would be dancing and singing and wine drinking. Maybe it was something serious. Whatever it is, it sure is weird. 

After nearly an hour, Hermione stood up and wrapped herself with another towel. She went to the small cabinet beside her bathroom door to take her underwear.  She then dried her hair, brushing it as much as she could to make it less bushy as possible. As for the make-up, she just applied foundation so that the small amount of color she would put on her face would stick as long as it could. Since it was nighttime, not much should be really splashed on her face, she never really liked make-up anyway and always kept it as natural as possible. For her eyes, she just placed a cream-colored eye shadow on the lid and a light brown near the lashes for an attracting yet not so striking look, since it blends well with her complexion. She placed mascara on her lashes so that they'd stand out a bit. She brushed her cheek very, very lightly with blush-on for an almost normal feel, and on her lips was flesh-tone lipstick topped with lip-gloss for extra luminosity. She also fixed her eyebrows, applying faint strokes with her eyebrow pencil. She looked at herself in the mirror, was contented and continued on. It was almost six o'clock when she looked at the clock and she was about to pick up the phone to call someone when the doorbell rang. She hurriedly opened it and Ginny went in with a bag filled with hair gels, spray and other beauty stuff.

"Wow, you're make-up's great! You did that?"

"Yeah. Just fix my hair like I asked you to. Why am I so worried?" Ginny decided not to answer that question, and Hermione didn't seem to mind. She gathered Hermione's hair into a ponytail, twisted it around and clipped it with hairpins and decorated clasps. She used the classic chignon for Hermione's hairstyle, and at the side where the hair was swept in; she placed a silver, pink stone studded clasp shaped into a swirl for final security and decoration as well. 

"It's all done, and it's seven fifteen. He'd be here any time." Ginny reminded. Hermione was fussing about her shoes since she forgot to shine them and wipe them. "And I'd better go. Simon might be calling me." 

"Thanks for the help, Gin. Good luck with Simon," she replied. She closed the door and checked herself in the mirror. On the dresser table, however, was Ginny's bag. Hasty to get home, Ginny forgot them. Grabbing it and hurrying to the door, she went out only to stop. Ginny was still there. Talking to Harry.

They seemed to be having a happy conversation and Ginny pinched Harry's shoulder, and then giggled. They both looked very excited, and they turned around to see Hermione watching them. Hermione smiled and showed Ginny, who ran instantly and took the bag she left. Harry just waited there looking stunned at what he saw. Ginny rushed to Hermione and grabbed the bag. 

"Go get him girl," she mouthed. "And good luck!" 

After Ginny was gone, Harry went to Hermione. They met almost halfway and both smiled.

"Hi," he said in a soft, mild tone. "You look absolutely striking tonight." He looked at her from hair to shoe. Her eyes looked normal but there was a shine, her face seemed so natural but it glowed to its best. She wore a darling pink chiffon dress, and the stitch, instead of being at the back or side, was in the front left, almost inline with her strap. It was quite unique and decorative, the little stitch seemed to curve with her body and as it goes lower, little curvatures were sequined outward along it, just like the hairs of a feather (with curled ends) in the stem, each cream colored curve bigger than the last. The slit was covered and overlapped with layers of ruffled thin cloth. It was truly indescribable, the beauty of the maiden on front of her, like an angel floating instead of walking.   

"So are you," she commented back, looking at his very formal tuxedo. He had a blue polo underneath, which looked very calming. 

They walked hand in hand down the stairs into Harry's car, a dark blue four-door sedan.  The trip was fairly swift, in a few moments a suave Harry was opening the door of his partner and led her to the restaurant. 

It was very secluded among the trees, probably why Hermione doesn't see it too much. Still, a lot of people come there, passing through the trees through a wooden bridge. Looking down, you can see a small river with some golden fish swimming around. They were reserved on the second floor, and it was mostly an open area, the gentle breeze cooling and tickling your skin. Hermione enjoyed the scenery, while Harry led her to a table near the main balcony. The small green marbled table was very elegant, and in the middle, there was a small hole to put matching stylish green bell shaped umbrellas during hot days. Harry requested it taken out like some, just for easier conversation, while others had theirs on. The floor was hard rock, roughly cut to fit like bricks. There were no walls except for the inside part, where there are tables and chairs if it's too sunny or windy or rainy for you. In the first floor, there was a mini-bar and a clear case to keep desserts cool, aside from other tables for guests to sit on.  The walls were splashed with a deep blue-green and lights were under open spaces of the wall to create a sort of dim, low effect. Hermione enjoyed looking at everything, this was quite a surprise. Then it just dawned to her that no one else is coming. By the looks of the table, she didn't bother to ask. 

She turned to Harry, who was holding a silver ball. Curious of what it was, she asked him.

"Oh, nothing, just something I found," Harry fussed. He seemed relieved when the soup was served. It was a mixture of vegetables in a broth spiced with herbs and other seasonings. Hermione smelled the herbal scent, which warmed her veins a bit, and got her soupspoon to eat. Hermione ate a small part, and closed her eyes at what elated her taste buds. It was flavorful, the tea-colored broth looked very bland, as if the spices weren't, but when it touches your tongue, Hermione tasted what she smelt. The vegetables seemed to melt in her mouth, very tender and succulent. Hermione kept eating it bit by bit, savoring every bite, and turned to Harry, who ate it as if it wasn't the first time he tasted it. 

"You've tasted this before?" Hermione asked, looking amazed. Harry laughed, saying it was his mother's own recipe, which was taught to her by her mother. Hermione seemed confused. "How did you get it?" 

"Oh, Sirius. He gave this box to me as a graduation gift, a compilation of every memorable object in our parent's house the night they were attacked," Harry stopped for a moment obviously remembering the incident, Hermione placed her spoon at the side and held Harry's hand. "The first box he gave me was small, it contained pictures after they were married, ones that no one haven't seen, very genuine photos only the three of us knew about.  After Hagrid took me, he came back to salvage whatever he could and quickly went by as if nothing happened. "The second one, where the recipes were held," Harry had to nod when Hermione heard there was more than one recipe and that those were the ones they would be eating tonight, " Sirius had to be very careful. He was still on the run then when he took them, and he left it at the house where Dementors captured him. He tried to come back, the old man who let him stay there died already years ago, he said it was a good thing the person he talked to was a bum, didn't watch News or listen to the radio so he didn't recognize him. The box wasn't there, it was transported when the old man's house was bulldozed, luckily he found it near a lake, where it was about to be burnt, those people didn't even care look at what's in it. But Sirius snatched it from them when they didn't want to give it. When I received it after graduation, when you and I weren't in touch, I nearly cried. Sirius said it was the least he could do, and that he was going to scrape every memorable object he could remember, that it was better in my hands, than in the hands of fire." Harry stopped, quickly adding," I decided not to tell you because-"

"I understand," Hermione said hastily. She didn't have to hear an excuse, and thought that it was nice that he had something for himself, after what happened to his parents. "That's  nice of Sirius to do.  But how did it come here?" 

"Sirius had a muggle friend, one of the few that Sirius helped and in return helped him hide. Besides Remus, there were some muggles that had helped him. Those muggles knew his identity, and owed so much to him, some kids of theirs are planning to enter Hogwarts. Every time there were inspections, Sirius would move from a house of one to another. One of them was totally bankrupt, and he asked my permission to borrow the recipes for a small restaurant. I gladly agreed, thinking it would be nice, since I'm not great of a cook, and now here it is, from small to big. " He looked around. 

Well, shall we continue?" she asked, getting back her spoon and getting another portion of the delicious broth. Harry smiled and dipped his in as well.

The salad was a different one, it had special, dark mushrooms, which were chewy and sweet, in contrast to the crunchy lettuce of the salad and also opposing the salty vinaigrette. Hermione reckoned it was also Lily Potter's cooking. Hermione never knew how great of a cook she was. Harry told Hermione little stories about what was in the second box, recipes, music boxes, letters, invitations to parties, wizard watches, a few books. And every time there is a new dish, Harry would say something about it. 

"This is my mom's beef with herb and tomato sauce. My mother wrote it when she was seven months pregnant, she wrote the dates of when she did stuff. They added the mashed potato and the garlic tomato fried rice for a nice entrée. Sometimes it would be replaced by a wizard animal, but they just stuck to beef."

 Harry can see that Hermione was enjoying everything. She was cutting the thin and soft beef slices into shorter and bite size ones. He felt good that Hermione loved the dishes, even more so, he was happy Hermione came. This night contains something special and her saying she'd come adds more to their trust. 

The music from inside started floating through their ears, when their main dish was taken away and replaced by dessert.  It was a little of three things: on the side there was a small bowl of crème bulee, the caramelized sugar a very delicious honey brown with a cherry half on top, there was a coffee crunch and peach tart, refrigerated to give that caramel syrup that was positioned leaning on the crème bulee bowl, and lastly there was a small plate of chewy caramel colored candy, she presumed. Hermione wasn't much of a sweet tooth, but she was so excited she didn't know where to start. She can't wait to taste Lily Potter's desserts.

"There are a lot of dessert recipes my mom had. And they always have the common ingredient to make it extra special. Actually, desserts are the most expensive here because of that." Hermione ate the crème bulee first and produced a big smile. She looked at the space she took a spoonful of and saw that there was a bit of chocolate powder, and syrup the same color as the candy, a little darker, and when she looked at the peach tart she distinguished the difference of the caramel from the coffee crunch and the syrup. 

"Really," she asked. "Why so?" Taking another spoonful, she looked at Harry who bent down a little to keep the secret between the two of them. 

"Butterbeer," he whispered. "Some wizards dine here actually, but Mr. Ponafide, he's the owner, said he could distinguish a muggle and a wizard when muggles ask him what the secret ingredient was, a wizard would simply ask if he was a pure muggle or not. He said he was more scared when a wizard asks him, being a muggle all along, but he simply answers that he has wizard friends he owes a lot too, and said he's been living like a wizard too. He says he buys butterbeer in Hogsmeade. He even said he was televised because of it, a lot of people kept interviewing, hoping they'd make him spill it. But he kept saying it's in the amount of sugar, so know some muggles spend twenty-four hours in the kitchen trying to find the right amount." They both laughed at the desperate ones, trying so hard and achieving nothing. But if it was for the security of wizards and witches, better keep it that way. 

"I reckon that the reason it's more expensive is because of where he get it?" Hermione asked, her wit impressing Harry more and more. He nodded.

"He says he still has to go to the Leaky Cauldron, exchange pounds for knuts and sickles at Gringotts, it was a bit of a hassle, considering the time it takes. He keeps them in old wine bottles labeled sugar solution to keep it secret even from his workers. They have desserts made to order, if it really needs a lot of the stuff. He told me lots of stories; he said he'd been quite popular at the Leaky Cauldron as the 'muggle who didn't know how to tap'. Lots trust him. And if he ever is thought suspiciously especially by muggle haters, he just tells me I'm his friend, which I truly am. It's nice to bring my mom's recipes here. But not all the dishes are hers, they have their own recipes too." 

"It's nice, what you're doing for him. And what he's doing for you too. He seems such a nice man. I'd like to meet him. This place is wonderful." Hermione commented. 

"Oh, he's still busy. This is open until midnight, opens at seven-thirty. They change workers and tenders every other day to keep it going. Mrs. Ponafide is here when his husband rests. It's closed on Mondays, so everyone could get a break." Harry added, taking a bite of the tart.

"This is making so much progress. Thank you for sharing it to me. I appreciate it." 'So this is what it's about,' Hermione thought. 'About this place.' Ginny was probably right about only us being here, but it's nothing more than that.'  But still at the back of her head, she felt there was something more.

On the other side, Harry was thinking of what to do next. 'There's much more coming,' he thought holding the silver ball Hermione saw a while ago. 'Much much more'.

The night was passing by heartily; the two diners have almost finished the last part of the meal, the dessert. Finishing first, Harry got up as Hermione gulped the last bit of tart. She still had the three butterbeer candies, and was asked to enjoy the night outside.

"Would you care to accompany me outside?" Harry let out a hand, which Hermione accepted.

Standing up, Harry gently placed his hand around Hermione's waist, and she didn't seem to mind. He escorted her to a nice steel woven staircase with fresh flowers round its handrail , which reminded Harry of the flowers her mother sometimes placed, based on her recipe. Harry helped her guest down, every step the scenery getting closer. Hermione, who was looking down to see every step, looked up and let out a sigh, at what she saw. It was this small park square, there were stone tables and chairs, carefully sculpted into intricate designs, each different from the next. There was one that showed the four seasons: winter snowflakes, spring flowers beside them, a little blurry carving between showing the change of winter to spring, a summery sun in the middle, with the glowing face and the chubby cheeks, and finally fall leaves, floating gently at the end of the circular table. It was indescribable, the beauty of it, a simple table, turned into this majestic artwork. Hermione sat at one chair decorated with stars, looking below and tracing the open lines. Some people were also there, sitting on other tables, also seeming to look at their table while chatting. Surrounding the perimeter of the park, there were chairs for two, also in stone, also wonderfully carved. 

"Hermione?" A voice asked. She turned to Harry who was sitting beside her, his arm on his shoulder. 

"This is beautiful. Who did this?" Hermione whispered, gazing at almost anything. 

"Well, like I said, some muggles helped Sirius. They were extremely poor, almost bankrupt, with families to take care of. But they were good people, and despite their lack of money, offered to help Sirius, even if some knew he was a convicted criminal. Somehow, Sirius was able to explain he was innocent, and in the process told them about Azkaban and the Wizard world and miraculously, they believed him. There were about three men and a woman who took him from house to house giving him food, like he was part of the family. These people were very talented. One was great in cooking, that was Mr. Ponafide, one was great in sewing, Mrs. Scheltzpinning, one was great in architecture, Mr. Simblemart, and one great in sculpting, Mr. Jermanpoe. Sirius found out about their talents when they were gathering and saw Sir Jermanpoe's little rocks. They had very nice designs, from beautiful goddesses to movie stars. Also, he saw Mrs. Scheltzpinning's little napkins and Mr. Simblemart's little rags he called his blueprints. Sirius encouraged these four helpful people to start a business of their own. But the four disagreed, exclaiming that they tried, unfortunately didn't have enough money to buy good supplies. And Sirius thought of that idea for a restaurant. They found this place that was really old and worn, but with a bit of magic it was done, as Sir Simblemart's best architectural plan instructed, Mr. and Mrs. Ponafide are in charge of food, Mrs. Scheltzpinning for tablecloths, curtains, and other draperies and finally Sir Jermanpoe's sculpting," He ended gesturing towards the tables. 

"Wow, Sirius is very lucky to be with those people," Hermione commented, very inspired by the four who worked hard and deserved where they are now. " A lot come to this place."

"Mostly at luncheons and dinners, also for parties. They use this park sometimes or set up a buffet table where we ate. But Hermione, I'm not taking you here," Hermione turned around, a little confused. "Would you follow me?" Harry asked, unsure of what her answer would be. But like before, she didn't complain. Instead, she smiled and stood up, took one last look at the carvings and held his hand. 

Harry went to a little passageway, covered by big leaves on each side that lean toward each other. He pushed those aside and went in first, it was a bit dark, and after a while, little lights seemed to glow from behind. Hermione waited out, looking at the people, hearing the ruffling of the leaves, then saw Harry's hand slip into view. She held it, a bit scared, but then followed. What she saw was absolutely breathtaking. 

What she was stepping on was a bridge, the river they passed on at the entrance continued, gushing past them, and lined around the railing of the bridge, which was rocking, were light bulbs, to light your way in the dark. It was a short distance from the really wonderful part. Looking forward, she can see post lanterns lit, and it was just like the mini-park, bigger though, and more elegant. Walking, and still holding Harry's hand, she gazed at what was straight ahead. Getting closer, she can see another new thing and then another. Soon enough, Harry pushed a small wooden gate and waited for Hermione to step in steady ground. She looked around captivated at the extreme beauty of what she was seeing. It wasn't just stone, there was wood and water and light. A little fountain was in the middle, the main rim showing a sculpture of a dragon's long neck around it. It was very detailed from the eyes to the scales. Hermione inserted her hand inside, feeling the cool water delight her skin. Becoming a little playful, Hermione sprayed droplets in Harry's clothes, and Harry did the same, just for fun. Squeals and giggles came from Hermione, and before they knew it, their tops were wet, so was the loose hair on Hermione's bun and Harry's glasses. They decided to cuddle at the wooden swing which seats to people. There was a bush of flowers and foliage in the roof, draping towards the main, non-moving posts of the swing.  They cuddled for a bit, looking at the stonefloors, that, because of the different light colors were looking a bit light purple and bluish-gray. They looked at the fountain, still spurting water, at the longer table, carved with a heart and swirls and curves, and clouds giving it a fluffy, light feeling. They looked at themselves, and each other, wet from their previous activity. 

"You know," Harry began, " I should be wiping your face right now, but," he stopped took his handkerchief and continued, "you drenched it, making it useless for tonight." Hermione giggled and positioned her head on his shoulder. No sooner than that, lightning shot through the sky and it rained. They cuddled together, thanking the decorative and now functional plants above them, keeping them a little drier. 

"Why don't we just go out? We're wet anyway." Harry suggested.

"Harry, I'm wearing a thin piece of material. I reckon you just want to see beyond that." Hermione presumed, which brought Harry into a smile and answered, "You thought of that Herm. I'm not thinking of those kind of things."  

It was a light shower, and soon, they could hear the light plops of the droplets fading, getting slower. Hermione went out first and looked at the crescent shaped table. The grooves from the carving were filled with water, and because of the lights (which were still open), produced a light purple color over them. The heart was almost filled with water, and continuous drops made the two ends closer, until they finally meet, creating a nice, shiny beautiful effect over the table. 

"That was nice," Hermione touched the wet table and traced the lines. "It should rain here more often." Hermione smiled at Harry. "Thanks for the wonderful dinner."

"And thank you for coming." Harry held Hermione's hand. "Would you care to dance?" It was then that Hermione realized that music was echoing up to where they were. And she subconsciously took Harry's arm, listening and trying to remember if she heard it before.

"Who's playing the violin?" she asked, as they swayed slightly in a slow dance. 

"Mr. Ponafide's son. He's great at it isn't he?" Hermione nodded her head, and then laughed.

"Here we are, wet, and having squishy shoes," Hermione commented. "Dancing under the stars," Harry whispered. The music stopped. "They're probably closed already." Harry mused, still holding Hermione, still dancing. A light buzz passed Hermione's ear, and she turned to see what it was. 

"You know what? I have to tell you something," Harry murmured in Hermione' ear. "A lot of things have come our way: friendship, discoveries of ourselves, our talents and dreams, our strength and will, a lot of challenges faced, a lot of people met, a lot of secrets revealed, a lot of love felt," Hermione smiled. "And I want to continue all of that with you. All of the times we've shared have meant so much to me, they have been a very big part of my life, of my heart. And for more than ten years of knowing you, I have come to realize that they are things I would never ever forget, no matter what anyone does to me. I'd always remember the first time we met, the first time we kissed, the first time we fought, the two years we weren't seeing each other, the time we got back again, everything, good or bad. Herm, I love you so much, I want to be with you, laugh with you, cry with you, be miserable with you, fight with you, die for you. You mean everything to me." Hermione blushed. "Which is why, I'd be giving you this." Hermione heard the buzz again, coming closer, and a little ball fell on her hands. It was silver, about the size of a walnut. She touched it and it's thin wings spread, showing an exact silver replica of the…

"The Snitch," Hermione breathed, unable to talk after that emotional conversation they had. It wasn't any ordinary Snitch. It floated away above her hand and it slowly had a crack in the middle. She seemed surprised, probably thinking it's her fault. But then it slowly opened, to reveal inside, a nice ring. It was an engagement band, Harry's sign of his overpowering love for this woman standing right before him now, his willingness to sacrifice everything he has, just to be with her. And yet, Hermione wasn't that content. Hermione seemed worried. 

"You didn't have to do this."

"I didn't, but I wanted to. I love you so much." 

"I don't think I'm worthy of this."

"Hermione, you are worth every single thing there is in this world. Or in the other world. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. " 

"Harry, listen to me. I'm a nerd, I'm a know-it-all. I could just make your life miserable in a snap-"

"Hermione, in a snap, you make my life work! You are not a nerd, you are not a know-it-all. You are Hermione, and I'd love you because of you. Your wit and courage, everything you are. If my life was miserable, just the thought of you makes me happy again, makes me stand up and fight." Harry paused for moment. "I love you. And whatever happens tonight, I would still do."

"Oh, oh, I'm so sorry…" Hermione let go of the Snitch, running away as fast as she could. She was still wet, her heart throbbing, she went towards the first cab she found and went back home. Seated inside the taxi, it started to rain, and that's when tears started falling uncontrollably. Her hair was already loose, revealing her wet hair. Her mascara already blotching her face because of the tears. She realized this when she wiped her face with tissue. 

"Oh, no, I'm a wreck," She sobbed.

The driver stopped at their destination. "Are you okay, miss?" She looked back, and thought about that. "I don't know," she answered, turning around walking inside. 

Back at the restaurant, Harry was holding the Snitch. A chubby man was with him, patting his back.

"Didn't work out, huh? 

"I guess I gave it to her bad," Harry replied. "Thanks for everything tonight Sir Ponafide. At least she liked them." 

"Anything for you, kid. And call me Arnold." Mr. Ponafide said, rubbing his black mustache. "Well, do you still want to stay here? And you're drenched." 

"I'd go home in a couple of minutes." 

Plop…plop…plop…

Hermione was sitting by her window, listening to the dripping water. She wondered if Harry was still there. She already changed to her pajamas, and her make-up was all removed. She can't help but cry. She didn't know what happened to her, what made her run away. But she guessed she just wasn't ready for it. She was so afraid. Harry's words kept echoing in her head. She couldn't sleep and just decided to spend the day thinking, of what she was going to do the next time she faced him. Still, she reminded herself. 

"I wasn't sure of myself. I did the right thing."

A/N: This is the longest chapter I have ever wrote, I used to make it a point to have at least five pages, and this is more than ten. I deleted some stuff, hopefully they are still understandable. It's hard to deduct if I write something, I find every word important. 

If you think it's still long, it's because I combined chapter one and two. I also realized that it was long because of the conversations on the phone. I never wrote conversations like those before so, I guess that's why. 

Please help me think of a name for my restaurant. And first names of the people who don't have them. The friends of Arnold. Thanks a lot who would give suggestions. 

To 'person', I still used auburn, I don't think its really something to make a fuss about, but thanks for your side anyway. What else, oh, since I still can't upload chapters, Special thanks to Stoneheart for reviewing 'While Eating Crunch' every now and then. Thanks so much for the support. I really appreciate the thought.  If you like this, read that too. This could be the sequel, but I can't wait for that to end. Sorry for things that oppose the book, misspellings, errors, the like. R/R!!

It would be fun reading about what you think. Constructive Criticism very much appreciated. Flames are just showing you don't know how to talk well (socialize normally) with people. Flamers need counseling. 


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